


flustered tempo

by chaoticlivi



Category: Soul Eater
Genre: Dry Humping, F/M, Fluff, Fluff and Smut, Smut, Spooning, not that dry tho
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-24
Updated: 2017-01-24
Packaged: 2018-09-19 15:30:36
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,188
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9447629
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chaoticlivi/pseuds/chaoticlivi
Summary: If he doesn’t find a distraction, he’s going to have to go take a cold shower, and that wouldn’t be a good idea with so many nosy people around.





	

Soul has a terrible secret.

Okay, okay. It’s not terrible. He’s pretty sure it’s normal and common, in fact. But if Maka finds out about it, what _happens_ could be terrible.

He manages pretty well to keep quiet about his true sexual tastes. Aside from his abandoned platitudes about “giant knockers” (completely the opposite of the truth **for reasons** ), Soul hasn’t ever told anyone his real preferences. Not even Black Star or Killik, not at their lewdest nor at their most serious.

And truth be told, his physical preferences aren’t even that strong. In theory, if his partner’s into it, he’ll probably be into it.

At any rate, the reason he’s never told anyone what he fantasizes about the most is because it’s Maka, his ongoing _battle_ partner, who has trust issues relating to sex, and even if she didn’t, she would still be his battle partner, and isn’t a sexual relationship awfully distracting when you’re one step away from dying?

How about if that person is straddling your shaft - er, your scythe shaft? Feelings about any other shafts that may become involved need to be locked the fuck _down_.

He can’t help it, though, except by keeping it quiet.

They’re hosting a party in their too-small apartment. Maka put on some nice clothes and apparently he’s some kind of animal now because he can’t take his mind off of how they flatter her, a pink sleeveless top (for her impossible shoulders and petite cleavage she _must_ have calculated) and a black miniskirt (as if that’s any different from her usual). (It is. It’s even shorter. It flounces off the swell of her ass and tempts the eye to follow it underneath, only to tease with sleek black tights.)

By Death, does he want to touch her butt. It’s a perfect curve on her lithe body, bold and perky like the rest of her…

If he doesn’t find a distraction, he’s going to have to go take a cold shower, and that wouldn’t be a good idea with so many nosy people around.

It’s almost midnight when he and Maka bid goodbye to their few remaining guests. Complaining that she doesn’t want to be alone after such a fun party, she suggests they watch a movie before bed.

“And let’s just lie down. We can share a blanket here,” Maka suggests of the couch Soul is currently on, brandishing a cozy fleece throw. “I’m cold.”

“Um…why not, I guess?” Soul says, knowing exactly why not.

He should say no. He _should_ say no. He should refuse and get up and go to bed. But he’s done that before, and it was _sad_. She had felt rejected, and he had been lonely. As afraid as he is of having something get messed up tonight, he wants to avoid repeating that even more.

Besides, she looks so very holdable.

As he’d thought, Maka takes the little-spoon position with a suspicious lack of awkwardness, not hesitating at all while he tries to decide where to put his arm and settles for draping it over her. To be fair, she has done this before. To be fair, there’s no reason she should think this is a strange request, since they are platonically close. But now the object of his arousal is pressed against his groin. A huge boner is inevitable.

He tries to think of pure nothingness, sheer white or black. He tries to concentrate on the movie character’s annoying voice. He tries to decide what the meaning of life is. He tries to think about Black Star picking his nose.

None of it works. Soul is desperately turned on by Maka’s sexy ass pressed into his lap, and every time he thinks he’s succeeded in keeping it down, he realizes her fidgety movements have only gotten him a little harder.

She’s too much.

Fifteen minutes in, Maka turns to give Soul a questioning look, and he thinks he can feel his dignity leave his body.

“This okay? You comfortable?” she asks. It sounds like she’s worried about the way they’re lying, but it’s definitely about the boner, because she talks like she’s short of breath and her face is the bright red of a woman who’s acknowledged a dick for the first time.

“Um. If you’re comfortable, then I’m good,” Soul answers. The smile she gives him is too brilliant not to be elation, and upon feeling her settle in even more, he resigns himself to the hope that this might be a romantic endeavor.

Yes, they’ve done this before - twice. Both times they had returned to single-bed hotel rooms with thoughts of love and sex far from their minds as they were bloodied, bruised, and glad to be alive. What a difference context makes.

Soul isn’t certain who started it, exactly, but he catches himself pressing his hips against her…while she very definitively _also presses back against him_. This may have gone from platonic lounging to dry-humping. He stops, doubting his interpretation.

But, oh, the urge to continue crosses into desperation territory. Not sure how to verbalize what he wants to ask, Soul makes a cautious movement to pull her deeper into his arms.

She hums in what sounds like approval.

“Maka,” he whispers in her ear, for now his mouth is right by her head. “You - you feel good. To me. Is it good for you, too?”

“ _Yes_ ,” she replies ardently, nuzzling up under his chin with enthusiasm he is not expecting. He doesn’t quite know how she’s getting the same reward he is from this interaction, but he’s not complaining.

There she is, pressing her rear into his arousal again. He lets himself meet her movement once, twice, over and over again, and they work their way into a flustered thrusting tempo. At once, the friction brings giddy pleasure and a carnal desire for _more_. He can’t hold back a little groan and it makes her pause.

“Sorry,” he says, mortified, and decides to take the final leap now. “I…have a confession: you’re hot.”

Maka chuckles, higher-pitched than usual. “You mean it?”

“Yeah. I mean it.”

“Haha. Look who’s saying it now.” She turns more to her back and kisses him, then, the side of her body still pressing - still stimulating that sweet spot in his pants. “You’re hot too, Soul.”

Fuck the stupid movie. He has a meister to make out with. They get started, slow and unsure, testing different ways of kissing and touching. Soul nips at Maka’s lip, making her laugh. Neither of them is very skillful, but he thinks they make up for it in enthusiasm. It’s rare for either of them to be silly and open like this even when alone.

“Hmmmm.” She moans with closed eyes, sending electricity through his body. “I think…I want…” she begins against his lips.

“What? What do you want?” Soul asks, aching, aching with want of his own. In response, she turns all the way to face him, puts her hand on his clothed head in a motion that could maybe get him off right then. Maka doesn’t leave him any time to think about it, kissing him soundly.

“Let me sit on you?” Her hand still plays around him in tantalizing circles.

“Sure,” he replies before he even really knows what she’s talking about.

Oh. She clambers on top of Soul, urging him to scoot onto his back more. _This_ is what she’s talking about. When she’s situated right over him, the heat of arousal between her legs promising sweet torture through both their clothes, Maka leans down for another kiss.

He puts both of his hands up her skirt on her rear, pulling her closer with a questioning glance. Maka nods her consent; she feels exactly as good as he knew she would, and the friction ( _at long last_ ) makes him feel like he’s ascended to heaven.

She uses the tent in his pants to rub herself off, her ass thrusting backward and forward in his grasp while he raises his hips into her from below.

“Fuck, fuck,” Soul gasps. He’s shockingly close to an orgasm considering that the fabric is a bit rough on his dick, but he’s not quite there yet.

Maka must be in the same situation. She whimpers, her voice carrying to the ceiling. “Mmmmmm, Soul, so close…so close…I dunno if I can make it like this but I’m so close…”

“What can I do?” Soul pleas through halting breaths. “I’m up for anything.”

She pauses and the sudden lack of friction is like a bucket of ice-cold water on his body. He needs her back…but she has another idea. What’s the idea?

“Take off your pants?” she murmurs. He can’t acquiesce fast enough while she also tosses aside her skirt, and she’s back to pumping herself against his cock.

“Better,” she sighs.

Through only a couple of thin layers, her heat is that much more intense, her wetness permeating the fabric. This isn’t exactly a gentle interaction, but it is one of love and harmony nonetheless, their hips sliding against each other in fitful motions and their whole bodies jerking with the force of their thrusts. They’re selfish and selfless, desperate for sweet release. He’s sweaty as hell with the effort of making pleasure happen, but that just makes him want it _more_.

“Oh…oh shit. _Soul!_ ”

Maka leans back with her eyes closed, movements slowing, legs tightening around his hips. Soul has never been privy to a moment like this before, but if her tiny, rhythmic moans are any indication, he thinks he knows what’s happening. There’s such an intense look on her flushed, beautiful face - like she’s seeing the secret of the universe - that he can’t do a thing except stare.

With a final couple of slow thrusts, Maka comes down from her high.

“You didn’t come?” she asks, voice soft, breaths hard.

“Boxers are making it take a bit longer,” he admits, although he’s still stiff enough that he’s gonna start aching soon. _It was worth it to watch you, though_ , Soul adds in his mind.

“Let me get you off?” Maka bites her lip and caresses his erection with a maddeningly gentle hand.

“I - uh. I would? If you don’t mind?” Soul internally berates himself for his clumsiness, but it’s all right; she doesn’t seem surprised and eagerly returns the bashful smile that he’s offered her.

When she lies beside him and puts her hand down his boxers, he lets out a long sigh of relief, of bliss. Thank the Old Ones that he isn’t relieving his frustration alone in his bedroom - he’s with Maka, she’s attracted to him, she’s on board with this, and it might be the surge of the hormones talking, but her certainty has made him believe this is going to work out. Her hand wrapped around his girth is so good.

Soul encourages her with compliments and swears that slip between his lips as that delicious final pressure begins to build in his body and flow to his cock. More confident now, she speeds up.

Fuck, he wants to make this moment last, but he’s so turned on that a climax is imminent. She leans over to kiss him on the cheek; he meets her with a deep kiss on the lips, the taste of her driving him right to the very edge.

“Maka, oh, I’m gonna come,” he whispers, and she does not stop.

Instead, she whispers back, “Please do.”

And he does. Every ounce of the night’s frustrations spills out from his twitching length. It’s messy and glorious.

As soon as he’s too sensitive for any more touching, Soul stops her by pulling her close. Maka wraps her arms around his middle.

“I saw you looking at me tonight,” she admits after a long pause during which he had wondered if she fell asleep.

“Oh. I wasn’t looking that much,” he says, denial mode kicking in again full-force.

“Haha, whatever you say,” she laughs. “I noticed.”

“What made you decide to do this?” he wonders.

“I’ve been thinking for a long time about it, but tonight when I saw you staring at me I just…had enough waiting. I wasn’t sure if my perceptions were right but I wanted to check.”

“So you decided to hump me with your butt.”

“No! Well…kind of,” she adds. “I wanted to see what would happen if we, ah, cuddled when we were feeling good, you know? I figured we couldn’t lose. It could be nice and we’d just fall asleep together on the couch, or…this would happen.”

“Yeah, well I was afraid you wouldn’t want this,” he says.

“I was afraid you wouldn’t want it either, but I knew we wouldn’t let anything regrettable happen. I wouldn’t have pushed you if you didn’t seem happy, and I knew you’d be the same.”

“I’m glad. You have a lot of gall, Maka.” It’s why he loves her, though it might be a little soon to come out with a statement like that. He nuzzles her head and plants a kiss in her sweet-smelling hair.


End file.
